


Silver Spoons

by Piff



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Indulgent Voldemort but only to a point cause he has PLANS, Narcissa the good sister, What if.., pining Bellatrix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 01:09:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12244167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piff/pseuds/Piff
Summary: What if... the fate of the Wizarding World depended on Bellatrix having tea?





	Silver Spoons

They say that with every choice, an alternative universe is born to carry out all possibilities. Fate, already a fickle thing, could be influenced by big things – such as the final vote for presidency, or small – deciding to wear one color shirt over another.  
   
In one curious instance, the fate of the Wizarding world rested in the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange. Quite literally in fact, as she lifted the antique teapot to pour her sister’s cup.  
   
“I’m _surprised_ to see you out so soon,” biting out the words as she poured. “Shouldn’t you be _resting_ from your _exhausting_  ordeal?”  
   
“I was feeling cooped up in the manor, and I wanted to see you.” Narcissa carefully added sugar to the dainty cup and stirred it in slowly. She was quite aware of Bella’s intense gaze and refused to give in.  
   
“See _me_? Over your _precious_ little Draconis?” The jealousy fairly crackled in the air.  
   
Narcissa looked at her sister, keeping her face smooth and serene. “You are my sister and I worry about you.” And seeing her sister now, hair in wild tangles down her back  and robes creased from sleeping in them,  did not make her feel any better. She'd known Bella hadn't been taking the last few months well at all, but for her to look this bad.. Narcissa couldn't stop the flick of her eyes downwards at her sister's belly.

"I'm so sorry Bella. How are-"  
   
“I’m _fine._ Rodulphus is _fine_. Everything is _fine _and nobody wants me to _worry_ because these things _can take a while___.” She stabbed at her tea viciously, the liquid slopping all over her saucer as she stirred. For a moment everything was going as good as it was going to be, but then her savage expression slowly faded to puzzlement as the slender spoon in her hand started to glow.  
   
Narcissa was just as baffled, eyebrows drawn up as she too stared at the spoon. “Isn’t this Great Grandmother’s set? The one charmed against...”  
   
“...poison.”  
   
As Bellatrix, the most emotional (and vocal about it) of the Black sisters, began to scream for her house-elf with promised threats, Narcissa pondered the difference between the two cups. If the tea had been poisoned, her own spoon should have also given warning by glowing. After all, she’d seen the elf add the tea leaves and herbs herself, there was nothing in that pot that was in any way dangerous to either of them. Pennyroyal tea was, in fact, well known for soothing headaches and helping to aid in clearing up dizzy or fainting spells. Something Bella’s husband had privately confessed to her that she’d been suffering of late. In fact, the only time Pennyroyal tea wasn’t good for you was when…  
   
“Bella… Is it possible that… you could be pregnant?” The word 'again' hung in the air like a soap bubble, too delicate to touch.  
Bellatrix turned wide, if slightly crazed, eyes to her sister. A look of dawning hope slowly bloomed. 

By choosing to host her sister, instead of spitefully demanding to be left alone, Bellatrix learned she was with child. The tea had been perfectly fine actually, but the various herbs could have affected the tender life in her womb and thus the tea set had warned her. Because of this, and that the Dark Lord held a smidgeon more mercy for his favorites, she was not crucio’ed at the next Death Eater meeting. She did not lose her much longed-for child.  
   
Because of this, there were far more consequences.  
   
\---------------------------------  
   
“Lady Lestrange…”  
   
“He had his wand pointed at my baby.”  
   
“Bellatrix,” chided her Lord, though amusement seemed to flicker across his face. “One more curse without my permission, and I will be forced to banish you from future meetings.” The man writhing on the floor he barely looked at. He kept his eyes on the teeth-bared woman at his left, one hand protectively placed over her belly, the other pointing her wand at the man she’d just hexed.  
   
Eyes narrowed stubbornly, “he pointed his wand at my baby.”  
   
Whether or not he had wasn’t worth the argument. She’d become quite the little mother snake in the last few months, and thankfully Lord Voldemort was more amused by it than irritated. Her fits of paranoia made her fellow Death Eaters more nervous when in her presence, and nervous Death Eaters were much more entertaining. She’d actually made Lord Avery stammer, and her own husband winced if her wand waved in his direction.  
   
And with how the war was going, Voldemort needed his entertainment before he simply settled for blowing up the whole country.  
   
Because of his seemingly gentle handling of Bellatrix and her coming child, his care to not take his anger out on her, Severus Snape was more hopeful in his begging for Lily Potter’s life. She was a mother trying to keep her baby safe, much as Bellatrix would and did. But because of Bellatrix and her obsessive need to protect her child, Lord Voldemort knew better.  
   
Lily died before she could say a single word in the nursery that night, swiftly joining her husband in the afterlife. The child, just over a year old and helpless.. did not.

  
\---------------------------------  
  


Bellatrix laughed but did not raise a glass for the toast to her Lord, a toast of many such toasts that had been going on all night in celebration. Cepheus Pollux Lestrange, so long awaited and prayed for, was secure in her arms at last and her Lord would forgive her for not putting him aside just yet. 

She was not allowed to drink while nursing anyways.

She nuzzled the soft tufts of black hair on the sleeping baby's head, knowing that things could not possibly get any better. She had her baby, (her precious treasure, her pride and joy, her Cephy), her Lord had the Wizarding World in his palm and had SUCH plans for it, and her husband carried his heir in his arms. Cygnus Volden Lestrange, named for his grandfather who had been named for his, watched the fireworks with large, fascinated eyes. No Black or Lestrange had ever laid claim to such a vibrant shade of green before now, but with Lord Voldemort himself as Godfather, no one would dare say anything about it.

Bellatrix couldn't even be upset that the elder boy would be given such an honor instead of Cepheus, since it was HER that had been chosen to be the mother of Voldemort's chosen one. Voldemort trusted HER above all others to look after and care for the boy now bonded to her blood, the little boy that would one day serve at their Lord’s right hand, and prove his benevolence to the world.  
   
Her Lord could have, after all, killed the boy when he'd had the chance... SHE would have. But no child should suffer from the fault of their parents, no matter how misguided they had been, so her Lord had shown mercy and Cygnus Lestrange would prove that Lord Voldemort did have the good of the Wizarding World in mind. 

And the world would owe all it's happiness to her great grandmother's charmed tea set and a silver spoon.

**Author's Note:**

> Theoretically, this is part of a series of "what if...." stories but this is the only one I've been able to write up so far. Maybe one day in the future... Hope you enjoy!


End file.
